Thursday, April 28, 2011
The whole day went down the crapper at an alarming rate, and it's still swirling.
As soon as I got up this morning, at 7am, and checked my brand new ipod4 (black not white) my Pilates clients started canceling, rescheduling, and putting their practice on hold because they were injured. HELLO, you're not supposed to be getting injured if you're doing Pilates.
The first text came in and for the next two and half hours, I was emailing, texting and erasing, people, places and times, from my appointment book. Yes, I have an appointment book that I can actually feel. And I love using a pencil and eraser. Sue me.
I wanted to crawl into a corner and chew on my foot because I was over it all! The last minute canceling and rescheduling goes against my Virgo nature. I like order, efficiency, and promptness. If one change is made, it's like a fucking house of cards. It throws me off balance. My productive and lucrative Thursday, turned out to be unproductive, unprofitable and depressing. Again, not a good time to stop the lunacy suppressants.
Since we're on the subject of shitless days, lounging around in poopy pants, let me regale you with the shitless night I had on Tuesday. I'm no shrink, but this might have had something to do with my current irritable brain syndrome.
I went to Verizon on Saturday with my boyfriend to buy a new phone. I was ready to upgrade and put an end to my friends telling me that I was living like it was 1995. (From a cellular phone perspective.) I decided to bite the bullet and get the iphone.
However, when I got to Verizon, they had other plans for me. The salesman, and I use the term loosely (he was more like a sales-child) because he looked like he was sixteen years old. When I told him I wanted the iphone, he looked at me like he had just sucked on a lemon, "Why?"
Why? What do you mean why? Because my friend Muffy has one, as well as a kabillion other people. What the f?
He proceeded to tell me that the Android Thunderbolt was a better phone, had cooler features and would give me more for my money. They were compelling arguments but I wasn't completely sold. He went on to tell me that downloading and watching movies on the Thunderbolt blew the iphone away.
I don't watch movies on my phone. I'm old school. I still like to watch movies on a friggin' movie screen (and large televisions) NOT on my tiny phone. He mentioned other features that went over my head, but within five minutes he was setting up my new Thunderbolt. "Excuse me, Sucker, you're table is ready."
In the past, I had never entertained purchasing a non Apple product when it came to electronics and technology. I went Mac in 2001 and never looked back. It was love at first sight. However, I also didn't want to be one of those Mac geeks that never venture outside of their Apple boxes (film & television production reference) believing that Mac rules the universe, and are willing to pay to live in its kingdom. I was trying to be open minded.
I have to say that my judgment might have been a bit clouded, as my boyfriend and I had spent the entire day looking at toilets, vanities and microwaves for the new house. We didn't get to Verizon until six in the evening and I was already feeling loopy.
In the middle of the transaction, my sales-child decided that he had to clock out (really, in the middle of a transaction) thus pawning me off on a salesman with a horrible sinus infection. As sinus man went through the paperwork and set up my phone, I became obsessed with his sinus infected paws groping my new phone. I nonchalantly asked what I should use to clean my phone. His red and puffy eyes looked at me like I'd just asked him how to grow an orchid in the desert. This Verizon store wasn't like other Verizon stores, and it was creeping me out.
We were nearing the finish line (two hours later) when another salesman, early twenty-something, weighing in at 300 pounds, sat down at his desk with a mother and son team buying a phone. While the mother rattled off questions about calling plans, the salesman took out his phone from his pocket, texted, and returned the phone to his pocket. It was surreal. He had no compunction about ignoring this woman to attend to his own business.
And then I thought I was going to throw up. I looked over at the salesman, and he was picking his nose with reckless abandon, as he answered his customer's questions. Apparently, he needed his finger up his nose in order to focus.
Within ten minutes, I regretted buying the Thunderbolt, being at this Verizon location, and thinking that the guest room bathroom toilet should be a two piece unit. These people were grossing me out. My gut told me to abort the purchase and walk out. Funny thing about your gut; when we don't listen when we probably should, there's a whole lot more sinus infected hands and nose picking that we have to endure until it forces us to trust what we already know.
Once home, I spent three days trying to bond with the phone. It felt wrong and weird and I wanted out. I packed up the Thunderbolt, car charger and case (my recycling came in handy, for nothing is thrown out) and got in the car. I contemplated going to a different Verizon location but I didn't want to take a chance that a different location might not let me make the return.
When I walked in, the 300 pound nose picker was helping another customer, thank god. A mid-twenties, short, gum smacking girl, walked over to me. "Welcome to Verizon. How can I help you today?" First of all, you can stop snapping, cracking and smacking that gum like your life depended on it. And then you can return these items for me.
She asked why I wanted to return them, and I told her that I was more comfortable with the iphone. When I told her that I'd had the phone for three days, laughed in a condescending manner and said that I hadn't given it enough time. You know what Snooki, I just want the ipod. Let's not take this personally and start crediting my account.
Oops, I forgot my receipt. That's right, I had to drive home (20 minutes speeding) and back (another 20 minutes speeding). On the drive back, again I contemplated going to another Verizon, but since cud chewing Snooki assured me of a full return, I didn't want to risk it. Oh, dear god, all this for a fucking phone.
When I returned to Verizon, cud chewing Snooki was helping another customer. You guessed it, 300 pound nose picker was all mine. Again I was chastised for not giving the Thunderbolt a chance. He also felt the need to tell me that after a short time, I'd be bored with the iphone. Hey doucher, I'm not looking for my phone to put on a show for me. I want to make a phone call!
I'm going to take advice from an unapologetic public nose picker, who finds it completely appropriate to text while assisting me with my purchase? Not so much Proboscis Digger.
He asked me if I wanted a front screen protector. I didn't want to buy anything from him or the store. I needed the Apple Store, and I needed it bad. Please forgive me, for I have strayed.
I said, no thank you, to which he replied, "Okay, so you want scratches?" You're resorting to sarcasm now? He was punishing me for getting the iphone? Is this happening? Give me my goddamn phone and let me get out of here.
And then he coughed into his hands. My spanking new, shiny, pristine, and germ free iphone4, sat inches away from his grimy mitts and again, I felt ill. I quickly unpacked the case that I had to buy and wrapped my baby up in rubber, and ran out the door. It's okay, Cud Chewing Snooki and Proboscis Digger can't hurt you now.
Mac and Apple do run the universe and I’m more than happy to pay out my ass to be an inhabitant, especially if it means staying clear of salespeople like the ones at Verizon, store number 145. I hope you're reading this Ivan Seidenberg, Verizon Chairman.
I feel a shit load better and I’m taking my poopy pants off now. Thanks for listening, er, reading.